


8760 Out Of 3

by ArchiveResponcibly



Series: Sparkling Isolation One-Shots [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, Near Death Experiences, diary entry, rated teen because it gets kinda dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:47:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23432656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArchiveResponcibly/pseuds/ArchiveResponcibly
Summary: Virgil Brooks is pretty much convinced that 1) god wants him dead 2) said immortal being is too much of a coward to figuratively "pull the trigger" himself. Here are the three stories of why.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, orignal female character/original male character (x2)
Series: Sparkling Isolation One-Shots [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1685650
Kudos: 38





	8760 Out Of 3

Dear Diary

The first time Virgil Brooks almost died came when he was just three days old, still sitting in a small hospital in the state of Florida. 

Key word,  _ almost _

Instead, his tiny body with its heart barely beating in his chest, was lying in front of Doctor Kingsley. Somehow, against odds pressing against each and every one of his ribs, the tiny boy made it. He, of course, doesn’t remember this moment even the tiniest bit. 

The sky was pouring rain that day, supposedly an omen to the superstitious Mr. and Mrs. Brooks. It was that very day that they decided they liked rain; because from then on, rain meant life. 

Amanda Brooks doesn’t really remember that late December day either. What she does remember, however, is the rain against the pavement outside steadying her heart. What she does remember is that she prayed a lot that day.

Jeffery Brooks remembered that day best, out of the three at least. He remembered the rain, he remembered even tiny little Virgil looking terrified. But most of all, he remembered the name Kingsley.

He remembered it for two main reasons. He remembered the doctor that saved his son’s life; and he remembered the woman who sat with him, her own sons sitting in her lap. Celia Kingsley was a tall woman, still is, but no one would ever call her imposing. She sat around with Mr. and Mrs. Brooks while her five month old sons, Roman and Remus, napped in a chair. Their dark brown hair tangled together as they leaned on one another's shoulders. 

She spoke softly, insisting that her husband, who she insisted they call Leo, would save Virgil. To this day, Amanda is still thankful for her and her family. 

The second time Virgil Brooks almost died, he’d made it to eight years old. He and his childhood friend, who was me, were walking through our neighborhood. The Brooks and my family were as close as could be, but the three young kids had no idea why. Of course, the four adults never mentioned Virgil’s first near-death experience.

His first of many.

The two of us were walking along the criss-crossing pathways of our favorite park. Our fellow strollers knew us and our families well by then, and insisted they’d keep an eye on us.

I was walking on top of every raised surface I could, earning myself side glances from Virgil. The shorter boy even threw a million “You’re gonna hurt yourself” up. I paid little attention to it. 

“Oh, chill, Vee! I know what I’m doing.” I had insisted. Virgil looked down, not completely convinced. He told me years later that the confidence in my voice calmed his racing heart. He told me I did that a lot. 

Though, this story isn’t about that bit.

It’s about what happened moments after. A ball flew out of nowhere, it had just barely missed striking my head. I ducked down just in time, losing his balance. Virgil had screamed.

The next moments were a blur for the both of us. When it was over, we were lying in a puddle on the pavement. Virgil told me he thought he was going to die that day, that he thought his heart would stop beating in his chest. That; ladies, gentlemen, and everyone else, is why this story is here. (well, and Doctor Leo agreed with him)

There must have been at least half a dozen people crowding around the two of us. I pulled Virgil up, feeling the tawny-haired’s racing heart in my ears. The other people were still talking, fussing. The clamor was getting to me too, but I insisted we had to leave.

Finally I dragged the two of us out of the lot. Virgil was clinging to my shirt. 

It would be a few weeks more before Doctor Leo diagnosed him with… I’m not sure, exactly, but basically a really weak heart; and anxiety. To this day, he still complains about this fact.  _ “I swear to you! God wants me dead, but he’s too much of a coward to kill me himself!”  _

He said that to me once. I laughed at him. But that’s besides the point right now.

The third (and hopefully last) time Virgil Brooks almost died came when we were twenty; well, I was twenty-one by then. 

We were going to go to this party our friend Remy Somnus was throwing. Virgil’s best friend, Patton Hart, had insisted I came along to keep him out of trouble. Of course, I knew he actually wanted me to be there and take Virgil out if he started panicking. Which was fair. To this day, though he won’t admit it, I’m pretty sure he knew this too.

Either way, we were almost there when I got this sick sort of feeling in my stomach. I’m not sure where it came from, but it was there. I decided to take a side route to make sure we took longer. Again, I’m not sure why. 

Virgil, thank god, had no idea where we were going, so he didn’t realise. Even if he did know where Remy’s house was, he was too busy sprawling out in my passenger seat and talking to Remus on speaker phone.

I chimed in every once and a while with a quick “oh, shut it.” or “of course you did, dimwit.” To the second, Virgil called me out on the uncreative nickname. Remus laughed, though I’m not sure if it was at me or Virgil. 

When I finally decided that I was overreacting, and that Virgil and I would be fine; I took the most direct route to Remy’s house. The trouble I had somehow predicted was there alright.

Remy’s house was on fire.

Not the small, kitchen kind of fire; flames were burning every inch of the place, licking the sky. I got out of the car, insisting that Virgil stay with the phone (and therefore Remus). 

It was chaos there, absolute chaos.

No one made it out alive that day; unless you count Virgil and I. 

Today, Virgil Brooks is turning twenty-four. We sometimes joke that this will be day 8760 out of 3, but Patton gets mad at us for it. He and I have been dating for many years now. Hopefully (as in, if all goes to plan) he will soon gain the name that managed to save his life three times now. Maybe he’ll save one of the rest of us.

Maybe someday, even, I’ll show him this diary entry. He’ll laugh at me, of course, but I know he’ll think it’s adorable! Well, I guess I’ll mention what happens this evening.

-Roman Kingsley


End file.
